


Mine

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 03:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill is trying out something called 'sharing'. He's not sure if he likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

**Title:** Mine  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Pairing(s):** Bill Weasley/Ron Weasley/Severus Snape  
 **Word Count:** ~3,206  
 **Warnings (if any):** Incest, threesome, M/s, BDSM, CBT, cross-dressing, rimming, piercing, infidelity, wolf!traits Bill, language. Pure smut – no apologies for that!  
 **Disclaimer: JK Rowling retains the ownership of all characters and settings borrowed from the Harry Potter series of books.**  
 **Author's notes:** Written for bill_ficathon over on Livejournal.  
  


** Mine **

  
Surely, there should be some guilt about my willingness to do this? I should feel some shame, at least, that I have happily trussed him up and handed him over to someone to play with?  
  
Well, at least I'll be warm in hell.  
  
I stretch in the chair, having slid down in my arousal, and something crunches in my back. It's the tension. There's so much tension in here you could put a knife through the air. It's an office in the middle of the fucking Ministry, for Godric's sake. We could be found at any time. But he wanted to do it here. He said it made sense. He said nobody bothered him when he stayed late in his own office. I hope he's right.  
  
Ron lets out a low moan as his hair is pulled, a sharp tug which must hurt. I force myself to stay in the chair. Ron is mine, and somehow, I've worked up the guts to share him, but that doesn't mean I'm finding it easy. A taste for rare meat and utter possession of my favourite things: that's the gift that Fenrir Greyback gave me with these scars. I grip the arms of the chair, ignoring the pain as my knuckles begin to ache. Ron is good at what he does. He's slowly, oh-so-slowly, lapping at the end of his temporary master's cock, as if he were a kitten tasting milk for the first time. I know all too well how those slow licks feel, how they can drive a man to insanity if experienced for too long.  
  
I think he knows it too, this man who asked me so seriously if he could play with my toy. A hiss comes out of his mouth and his eyes close, his head tilts back. He knows all right. One slim hand presses Ron's head down and, without complaint, Ron takes him in his mouth. I have taught him how best to please me and he is a man – he can guess what pleases others, too. He knows what pleases him.  
  
It's not long before the wizard is panting, rocking his hips back and forth and pressing his cock further down my little brother's throat. Ron remains completely still, taking it in his stride. I shouldn't be proud. I really shouldn't be proud.  
  
But I am.  
  
Finally, the man knows he has to stop Ron or he won't last. He roughly pushes him away with such force that Ron lands sprawled on his backside, legs spread, arms barely able to catch his body in time. We both stare at him for a moment, lying there.  
  
I chose his clothes. Simple lace knickers, black so that his skin stands out underneath. A black camisole of the softest silk. I don't go in for corsets when the eventual aim is sex – too difficult to get out of in a hurry. Corsets are for nights when the rule is to look but not touch.  
  
I applied his make up, took it all off again when I decided it was all wrong, and then added the darkest eye liner he could pull off, mascara and some whorish lipstick which leaves a stain wherever it touches. I look up and see the man's cock covered in scarlet marks and smirk.  
  
Ron wears his usual adornments of his collar, the leather restraint cuffs at his wrists and the chastity device which keeps him soft until I say he can get hard. Our companion won't know about that last one yet, nor the piercing through the soft fleshy head of my brother's cock. I pierced him myself. I tied his wrists and ankles and told him if he was a good boy I would kiss it better afterwards.  
  
When my time comes to shuffle off this mortal earth, they'd best bury me in a pair of swimming trunks and nothing else. I can already feel the heat.  
  
I watch as Ron disappears beneath the man's body and his hands are pinned on either side of his head. His neck is practically chewed on and I see his body shudder. His neck is sensitive. His head rolls back and his eyes close and he looks happy, lying there, underneath another man.  
  
Anger shoots through me. He's mine. Nobody else's.  
  
“Enough.” I manage not to spit the words and keep my voice calm, but they both seem to know not to push me. Ron comes back into view and the wizard looks down at him, his own cock hard and pushing against the air.  
  
“Don't feel you have to just watch,” Severus Snape says finally, dark eyes flicking in my direction. “I know how hard that is.”  
  
I get up and saunter over to where Ron is still lying on the floor. I put my naked foot on his crotch and massage him through the lace with my toes. He moans and stretches out on what must be a bloody uncomfortable floor. He's desperate tonight. I can see it in his eyes. I get down on my knees and survey him, my little toy, and listen to the rashness of his breath.  
  
“What instruments have you got?” I ask, not tearing my eyes off him. He blushes under my stare. I reach out and rub my hand where my toes were as I look up to Snape.  
  
His request had surprised me. From my knowledge, he'd never shown any inkling of interest towards Ron, and he'd been free before I got my claws into him. We never would have known each other's tastes if we'd not met at the same spot, looking for the same things. Snape was also there, watching, but he didn't make his move on my brother.  
  
He gestures for me to follow him and I do, leaving Ron sprawled on the floor. I don't have to tell him to stay where he is. The sexual submission comes so naturally to him that he just knows. It still surprises me that he is willing to do whatever anyone says in the bedroom when he is so fiery and determined outside of it. Perhaps that's why he gets his kicks from it.  
  
Snape leads me into a room off the office which is small and unassuming. Unassuming until he taps a brick in the wall with his wand and all around me, the room changes, with all sorts of hidden features popping out of the walls. My immediate favourite thing is a big cross with many rings and straps attached.  
  
“At work?” I ask with a grin.  
“Where else do I meet so many people?” Snape comments drily.  
“Fair point.”  
  
I look around me, barely knowing where to start. There's so much choice. Too much choice, but I'm not going to complain.  
  
I select a riding crop from a selection in a mounted holder on the wall. I test it against my own palm and imagine how fast it will move and what marks it will leave. Then I pick up a wooden humbler, which has been painted black and wave it airily in Snape's direction.  
  
“These'll do.”  
“Is that all?”  
“Sometimes more is less, don't you think?”  
  
He smirks at me and nods, then follows me as I re-enter his office.  
  
“On your knees please,” I say, not beating around the bush. Ron complies and I fucking love the way he doesn't even sneak a glance at what I'm holding.  
  
He trusts me absolutely. It makes my blood sing.  
  
Rising up, he turns over and positions himself on his knees. I press on his back and he lowers himself onto his hands. The silk camisole hangs down, revealing his flat stomach, and I reach underneath him to caress it. I can't help myself, or the squeeze I give to his bound penis. I pull his knickers down and leave them around his knees.  
  
“Innovative,” Snape puts in, bending to look at the charmed cord which sits at the base of Ron's shaft. It lets enough blood in for physical function and safety, but an erection won't get past it unless I remove it.  
  
Ron shivers slightly as the curved metal through the head of his cock, finishing in a ball just outside his slit, is rubbed by Snape. One of my better ideas, that was. Gently, I palm Ron's sac and pull it backwards. He stiffens as I position the humbler in place, locking his balls inside and trapping them in place. I secure it and look down at my work. I take in his soft feet, lying there, and without speaking return to the hidden cupboard. I find the spreader bar I saw and return to them, where Snape has got Ron panting by fiddling with his piercing, and lock Ron's ankles into the bar.  
  
“Watch or do?” I ask Snape, holding the crop out to him.  
“Watch,” he replies immediately, and he drops to the floor, seating himself in front of Ron's face. He uncovers his groin and I grin at his plan.  
  
“I want you to make as much noise as you can,” I instruct, taking my position behind Ron, trying my hardest not to dribble at the sight of his reddening bollocks, his exposed hole, and his unmarked cheeks.  
  
They won't stay that way for long. Gently I extend the crop so that the leather end caresses his sac, teasing him. He moans lustily and I bite the inside of my cheek. The way to unravel Ron is to go slowly, I've found. Going in all wands blazing doesn't produce anywhere near the beauty that slow torture does.  
  
I run the leather down one thigh, over his calf, and right to the tip of his big toe before switching to the other foot and moving back up. He jerks when I scrape over the soles of his feet, where he's most ticklish, and then hisses at the pain when the humbler pulls on his sac. A glance over his head shows me Snape stroking himself openly in front of Ron's mouth.  
  
I swipe the leather over Ron's hole several times and then run it all the way up his spine. I move around him, sneaking it beneath the camisole to touch his nipples, then all the way down his belly to his flaccid cock. I bend down and whisper the incantation which will get rid of the cock ring.  
  
“Fuck.” The word is a whimper as Ron immediately reacts to the desire which has been building in him since we started.  
  
I rub his impressive erection with the crop and then, while he is still catching his breath, I slap it with the same. He rocks forward and the howls at the pain. I repeat it, hitting harder, and he cries out, his head bowed to the floor, his knuckles white. I continue, getting down on my knees for better aim, and with my free hand I reach back and finger his hole. He gurgles and moans and begs beneath his breath, though I'm sure he doesn't know what he's begging for.  
  
If it's rest, he doesn't get it, as I plunge one finger into his oiled backside and seek out his prostate. I know him like the back of my hand, so it doesn't take long to find and I press on it, and he groans, and my cock gives a throb in my trousers.  
  
I make up a rhythm for myself – thwack, rub, thwack, rub – until he's practically sobbing at me. I glance up to see if I've got any actual tears from him. He knows that's what I expect. His face is red but still dry, and I pull my finger out of him and replace it with two, starting to fuck him. My rhythm goes off because fucking with one hand and hitting with the other isn't easy, but I manage it and he begins shivering and trying to shift away and hurting himself with the humbler. It's a gorgeous sight; Snape's eyes are dark and his lids sit low as he watches, touching himself to my brother's torment.  
  
A particularly rough cry breaks through the room and I stop completely still, hearing desperation in Ron's tone. We enjoy our fun, but he is only human and he has a limit. This is the first time he has ever been shared and I don't know how he's mentally reacting to the humiliation of being played with in front of another man – especially as the other man used to teach him.  
  
I drop the crop and rub my hand soothingly over Ron's back. I put my face between his arse cheeks and lick at him, letting my tongue slide in a few times before placing soft kisses all the way around the pucker and in his crack. He calms down and lets out some shaky breaths.  
  
I hear his grunt of surprise and look up to see Snape forcing Ron's head down into his lap to suck him again. Ron is slow to start, driving him mad again, and I see the tension in his frame.  
  
I reach down and squeeze my own cock through my trousers. I look at the humbler and wonder if I am cruel enough to fuck Ron with it still on, but decide that I'm not. Not tonight. I want him to enjoy the fuck. But not until I make him cry.  
  
I shift round until I can see him, using his tongue as I taught him how. I arrange myself alongside his body, his cock in easy reach and I pick it up. He moans. I take one end of his piercing and pull it out away from his flesh, then get the crop again. Without warning, I tap the bare, slippery head, the foreskin long having down around his glans. He squeals and with his mouth full it sounds even more debauched than usual. I tap him harder, and he jerks, the humbler making him cry out into Snape's crotch.  
  
His sounds always undo me. He sounds so delicious, tied up and gagging for it. He's delicious. I slap at close range, holding the crop close to the tip so I have total control, and just keep going. His moan becomes continual and his slurps on Snape's cock are erratic, like the older wizard's breathing. I glance back to Ron's face and there they are, what I wanted – big fat salty tears dripping down his cheeks from his screwed up eyes. I stop at once and release him from the humbler.  
  
“Oh God.” The words are a long, sexy moan, snatched in between breaths and sucks, and I can't wait any more.  
  
I shove my trousers down and line up to him, gripping his hips hard. I push in without any ceremony and he opens up for me, like he has so many times before, and fuck me, it's so good. He's still so tight.  
  
I let him hear me enjoy him as I slide all the way in and then pull out again, rocking back and forth a few times to let him get used to me. And then, when he's moaning happily at Snape's cock, I let rip, plunging in and out as fast as I can, fucking him so hard that his body shifts forward, scraping his knees over the floor. His ankles are still tied, keeping his legs spread and I grope him with one hand, fumbling his abused cock. I lean down and smooch over his back, making sure my teeth leave marks. I love biting him. He's practically keening to me, trying his best to keep at his task but I know he can't. He pulls his head up and lets it bounce as I fuck him. If Snape minds the interruption, he doesn't say. He goes back to fisting himself, arm moving quickly.  
  
Ron stiffens in my arms and, not surprisingly with everything I have done to him, shudders and comes over my hand, the floor and his own belly, choking on his own breath as he fights through it. Either the sounds or the image is too much for Snape, and I hear him grunt and release, probably all over Ron's silk-covered abdomen.  
  
I slow my own hips and eventually come to a stop. They have come and I haven't, but I don't care. I carefully extract myself and enjoy the porno shot of Ron's red hole, all juicy from my pre-come and the lubricant. I free his ankles and then pull him close to me, seating him on my lap whilst I sit on the floor. I kiss him, not enjoying the taste of another man's cock on his lips. I bring my dirtied hand up and he accepts it immediately, cleaning away his own orgasm with his tongue. Snape watches, his eyes still hungry.  
  
“We should go,” I whisper into Ron's ear.  
  
He nods and moves to get up, but I hold him still. He falls limp in my arms, completely trusting.  
  


* * *

  
  
I come in his mouth later, when we're alone and nobody is watching. I make him drink me down and moan like he fucking loves it. He does it. When I'm spent and he's shattered, we curl up together in bed, me stroking his hair and him half-moaning, half-purring beneath his breath like a contented cat.  
  
“Did you like tonight?” I ask him quietly. I don't like the thought of another man's handprints on him.  
“Yeah...” he doesn't look at me. “It was different.”  
“Good different?”  
“Well I wouldn't have sucked him off if I hated it, would I?”  
“You would have done whatever I told you to do,” I say, slipping back into my stern bedroom tone.  
“You don't get to whore me out against my will, Bill.” Ron laughs and his breath tickles my chest. “I might be your fucktoy, but you're not my pimp.”  
  
Then he defiantly meets my eyes and stares me out.  
  
“No, I'm not.”  
“But I'm happy to play again as long as that's all it is. I don't want to be owned by anybody but you... you know my terms, Bill.”  
“I do.”  
  
I kiss him then, long and slow and searing, holding his cheek with one of my hands.  
  
We play at this every weekend; it's the only time we can get together. He works himself to the bone and I... well. I have a family. It's easy to say, on a Saturday night, that I'm meeting friends -it's not a lie. But what my wife doesn't know is that I nearly always meet my brother and force him into submission at my hands, and I have committed so many acts of debauchery with him that she might combust with shame if she knew about them.  
  
I should probably care more that I'm cheating on her with my own brother. I should care more that I love hearing him scream with pain and then making it all better with an orgasm. I should care. I should care. I should care.  
  
I don't, though.  
  
 _-fin-_


End file.
